


Sapphires and Emeralds

by blumbrr



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, M/M, Romance, Segregation, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Suspense, Violence, Yaoi, tribes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumbrr/pseuds/blumbrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred of Sapphires meets Arthur of Emeralds, and the two find themselves intrigued by someone that has been seen as an enemy by their respected tribes for years. Despite the history of bloodshed and disaster, the two are determined to show that tribal traditions do not always have to rise over modern instincts. Tribal AU, USUK, M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Segregation is bad. Don't do it, kids.

Chapter 1:

The Attack

The day had started out as a simple gathering for the week, as it was tradition to introduce the children with ten years to what they would do in the future to help their tribe, the tribe of gathering called Emeralds, succeed. It was Arthur's tenth day of birth, and after the morning celebration and ceremony in the lake that ran through their village, his mother Elizabeth led him out into the forest when it was midday, as the other able mothers did. He would do what he was taught with boys his age when he got used to it, but for now, he traveled by his mother's side as he was taught what to do and what to pick and look out for.

"These berries right here," she pointed at a bushel of the blue fruit as she knelt down in front of them, gesturing for her son to follow after her, "they're safe to pick, not just because of the thorn-less bush, but because of their girth. On either side of the perfect ones, there are too small and too big ones, so you must pick the right ones."

"Is this whot I'll be doing when I'm old enough?" The boy asked as he took a few from their bush and placed them in his mother's homemade basket.

"Yer not a girl, Arthur," Maggie, his older sister, snapped at him with a sneer as she sauntered past her brother, the soft smell of lilac wafting off of her large mane of ginger hair as she walked past him. "Yer gonna be with the other boys like you."

"Don't be rude to your brother," their mother scolded them. Her tone was enough to convince her children that she didn't want any arguing to occur today. "He's still learning, just as you were at his age."

"Well he doesn't have to be stupid about every little thing he doesn't know about."

"I am not stupid!" Arthur exclaimed in protest with a glare towards her.

"Yes ye are."

"You're stupid!"

Elizabeth shushed her son by giving a short tug to his ear to silent him. "You'll be doing wood gathering until you're old enough to do more things."

"You'll be with Antonio, dear," Catalina, a family friend, pointed out, rubbing Arthur's hair. Her son Antonio was good friends with Arthur, and the little boy brightened up in happiness and glee at the thought of being with his good friend. Catalina had been a childhood friend of Elizabeth, growing up as neighbors for most of their life and into the present time. Antonio was just a couple of months older than Arthur as well, so the two often played games together or did work they received from tutors and their teacher.

The group of women continued to gather supplies and explained more to Arthur what it did for their village and how it helped them with relations to other tribes. To help him be productive, they told him to gather wheat for food when he could. He hopped from place to place, picking up strands when he could in joy. Eventually, he realized he had wandered into a wide field full of tall grass and wheat, and frantically started to look for his mother when he didn't see or hear her.

"Mum?" He cried out, clutching the wheat strands close to his chest. He tried to keep his fear down as he looked in every direction for any sign of his mother. However, unfortunately, no woman or human- as far as he knew- was nearby."Mum!"

There was a rustle of bushes nearby, and he jumped in shock, staring in the direction where the noise had come from. He saw and heard nothing, and for a long while, there was silence that filtered the area, convincing him that he was just imagining things. With a quiet gulp, he started to turn back the way that he had came, but as soon as he turned his back, there was a battle cry of sorts and a spear flew forward and landed right in front of him. A loud scream of utter terror filled the air as he started to run, the wheat long forgotten where he had once stood. More talking came from behind him, his thin legs moving as fast as he could to get him to safety. Tears streaked down his face, his eyesight blurring, and eventually, he found himself tripping over a tree root and falling on his stomach. He crawled to the side as men that he had never seen before rushed by him, paying him no mind while he escaped into a bush, luckily free of thorns.

Arthur whimpered under his cover, pulling his scraped legs towards his chest and hugging his chin. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nibbled on his lip as screams of terror were heard outside of his little haven. He was unsure of what was happening, but he could barely make out the shouts and cries of pain and for assistance. The young boy hid his face and started to cry quietly into his arms before someone started to gently nudge him. After a few moments of letting his tears cascade down his cheeks, he glanced up at a blond boy that he had never seen before, with wide eyes that were the color of the sky. He had never seen those kinds of eyes before, and it made him wonder why it wasn't around. They were very pretty and clear, and for him, having grown up around green eyes his entire life, it was the more beautiful eye color he had ever seen.

The boy started to speak, started to ask "Are you okay?" but was unable to finish as someone grabbed Arthur and dragged him out of the bush. He didn't know who it was until he smelt the scent of lilac, noticed the mane of scarlet red, and heard the usually harsh feminine voice whisper in his ear, this time gentle and telling him to hold on. The young boy clutched onto his sister with everything he had. He felt that he would fall from her hold and never return if he did, but he made sure to hide himself within Maggie's arms, just as she was almost hiding him from the world.

When they reached their village once more, the men and boys were already leaving as the women that had to stay behind came out to examine the ruckus and gather the younger children back inside from playing. Antonio was standing in front of Arthur's hut, his hands wringing his shirt nervously as he scuffled his feet. He glanced up at the two coming towards him, but before he could ask anything, Maggie was ushering him inside.

"Come on, Antonio, in ye go," she instructed, gently pushing on his shoulder with one hand as the other shifted her brother to her hip. She closed the door and led the two to the back, where the bedrooms were located. The other brothers, Dillan (Maggie's twin) and Charles, were sitting on the bed quietly, and looked up when the trio entered the room. "Dillan, will ye grab some bandages and healing salves fer me?" Her twin nodded and, in what seemed to be in a long time, he listened to what she had said.

"Maggie..." Arthur quietly spoke up, his voice small and full of fright. "Who were those people? The people with the spears that were running towards us? Whot were they doing here?"

The redhead paused slightly from cleaning his wounds with her apron, but then resumed what she was doing, this time gentler and slower. "They're not good people," she replied. "They don't like us...we don't like them."

"Is that where Father and William are? Did they leave us to go help the mothers?"

Maggie nodded. "They probably went to go defend Mum and Catalina."

"Is my mum alright?" Antonio asked, a presence that had almost been forgotten from how quiet he had been. Usually, whenever he was around people, he was social and excited and friendly. To see him in such a reserved, quiet state was a strong surprise to those who knew him.

She didn't answer him, instead thanking her brother for the cloth and salves. "How about we take a nap after I bandage you up?" A smile, forced and pained, rose on her lips, but it was unconvincing to the young boys in front of her.

When the men returned, rugged and tired, they came back with few women. Elizabeth had thin scratches on her face and a gash in the palm of her hand, and she walked with a limp. Her oldest son William helped her along, and soon, the fathers- James and Marco- rejoined them, having returned a bountiful of fallen supplies to the town square. Catalina did not return, and Antonio sat outside, waiting for her all night. Arthur stayed by his side when she never returned and he cried into her arms as the realization that her soul was now resting with the gods forever. There was a departure ceremony held for her, privately with the family that they had with them and then with those who had also been lost, in a memorial and to mourn over the souls taken that day.

Arthur's knees had healed up in a few weeks, and Antonio spent more time with him than usual. With the loss of Antonio's mother and Arthur's want for a friend, the two of them formed a tight bond between them that could never break. William and the two fathers were gone for long periods of time, but they never told the two boys where they had gone. Eventually, the kids grew: the four oldest children eventually moved out and formed families of their own; Elizabeth gave birth to her last child, Peter; both Antonio- whom she had adopted as her son- and Arthur turned eighteen; yet at the end of the day, throughout all of the eight years that it had happened, Arthur never forgot about the boy with sky-blue eyes that he had run into when he reached his tenth year.


	2. Teaching the Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, segregation is bad. Don't do it. Also, Matilda is a bitch and Emilia just wants what's best for her son.

Chapter 2:

Teaching the Warrior

Eight Years Later:

The House of Jones currently held the highest rank of the tribe of Sapphires, controlling all of the land that was in their territory. Their chief of the tribe, Aldrich Jones, rose to power when his plan to attack the gatherers from Emeralds eight years ago was a success. In addition to this, he prevented water to reach the Gold and Cocoa tribes, and caused several deaths during the rainless season, and he would have done more damage if it weren’t for the rulers of Violets and Rubies, who were able to return water to the other tribes and who managed to keep the Sapphires’ best warriors to what would have been a disastrous war.

Aldrich had two sons- one with Emilia of Sapphires and the other with Rosalie, an ambassador for Rubies. From Emilia, he had the heir to his throne, Alfred; Matthew, his other son, due to his eye color being violet, would hold a place under the court of Chief Bolton because of Aldrich's royal status. Matthew had turned eighteen a year ago and was undergoing training in the Royal Court. Alfred, on the other hand, had fourteen days left until his eighteenth date of birth, where he would have his coming of age ceremony. Sapphires, also dubbed the Tribe of Warriors, had a tradition in which, on the day of a male's eighteenth day of birth, a warrior in training would make his first kill as a sacrifice to the gods.

Strangely enough, the son of the man that had put fear into so many had not shown a single bit of hostility to anyone he met. Even when trading had to be done with Cocoa for their rich spices and foods, there was no negativity or hatred in his actions. The son of the chief of Sapphires was a pacifist. Alfred had always disliked fighting, and chose to study rather than to "battle" with boys his age. Even the most significant philosophers had taken a life on their eighteenth day of birth. It was a tradition that had carried on for years and would continue for endless generations, especially with the Royal Children. However, for Alfred, there was doubt in the village and in their tribe that Aldrich's son would follow through with the sacrifice. Depending on the rank of warriors in one's family, a different offer was given; for the Royal Children, it was always a human one. An animal, Alfred would consider, but to take away a human life was asking a lot from him. 

Alfred had finished with his fighting lessons earlier than normal, and was allowed to return home. A couple of servants told him that his mother could be found outside in the garden, picking out roses with Matilda Køhler for his party in two weeks. The teenager changed into his relaxation clothes- a simple pair of brown trousers and a brown, short-sleeved shirt- and then hurried outside to find his mother. It didn't take him very long, for the two mothers were chatting as they walked along. Upon seeing her son, Emilia turned around and grinned at him.

"You're home early!" She smiled as he embraced him. Alfred had grown taller than her over the past couple of years like his father, but his features were from his mother. "I wasn't expecting you to be home until supper."

"Owain finished early with me, so he let me leve early today," Alfred replied with a beam, returning the hug given to him. He nodded towards the other woman in respect. "Miss Køhler, it's good to see you."

Matilda nodded toward him as well, a small sneer on her face; "A pleasure, Alfred." She had once been a cheerful, warm person, but after her husband's death three years before, she turned bitter and cold to the rest of the world, even to her son Mathias. "My son wasn't too rough with you today, was he?"

The teenager laughed. "No, ma'am, he wasn't. He's never rough on me."

"Good." She clipped another rose off from its bush and placed it in the basket hanging from her arm. "I would hate to discipline him on something as little as this."

"Matilda," Emilia shot a warning glower at the woman, "another time, please."

As the widow continued with her work, mumbling under her breath as she did, Alfred was ushered forward and away from her. Emilia checked that they were a distance away before she started to talk. 

"Did you participate in whatever Owain gave you?" She questioned. When her son looked away and continued to walk forward, she sighed and strode beside him. "Alfred, you cannot turn away your trainers. They're trying to help you and you're not participating in what they have planned for you."

"I don't want to fight anyone," he admitted. "Not even for practice. There's no point doing what Owain and Aeron give me to do if I'm not going to ever use those skills in my life."

Emilia stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. "Alfred. I understand that you do not want to do this. But you're the son of the chief of the Sapphires tribe. It's your duty to fight. It's tradition. If I could, I would let you shoot a bird out of the sky- like your friend Francis did. But this is Solaris, not Aquarius. We do things different here. And when you're the son of the most powerful man in your tribe..." She chuckled, a dry laugh that contained little amusement. "Tradition comes before your decisions."

Alfred stared at his mother when she finished. A look of bewilderment filled his sapphire blue eyes as he tried to understand what she was trying to say. He had a duty to fulfill, one that required him to perform certain duties that he did not want to accomplish. He had always been aware of that fact, thanks to Emilia's early informative periods when he was a child. That didn't mean, however, that he had to change his views just for this occasion. "Mother, I..." He stared at her, trying to process something to say, before he sighed and started to walk away, in the same direction he had entered.. "I'm going for a walk."

"Alfred--" Emilia started to go after him, but he stopped her before she could halt him. 

"I just want to go for a walk, Mother. I'll be back."

There was no spite or irritation in his tone, but Emilia had a feeling he was leaving because he wasn't happy with what she had said. He had always tried to comprehend what she was trying to say, but there were times where he just couldn't understand why or how something was a certain way. "Be careful; don't go near the Border!" She reminded him, to which she received no answer. Alfred would be alright either way; he never chased after danger like some boys. He stayed within reasonable limits of the tribe's limits.

Matilda, from behind her, scoffed as Alfred disappeared into the house. "That boy of yours deserves a good whap. You know he's not going to listen to you."

"I trust Alfred," Emilia sighed quietly as she began to once again clip the roses off of the bushes. "I know that he will not venture further than Sapphire's borders."

"You do not know. He is not to be trusted just because he will rule our tribe- and soon, too, with Aldrich's failing health!"

With a frustrated glare, Emilia whipped around to glare at the widow. "I have not told Alfred about his father's illness, and I intend not to until Aldrich can no longer get himself up from his bed. No more on the issue, Matilda. I invited you here to help me, not to gossip about my son and the future of Sapphires." She handed her basket to Matilda and walked past her, not sparing her a second glance. "Now work."


	4. Visiting the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence. Do not try this at home.

Chapter 3:

Visiting the Past

"Shit...I forgot the flowers again."

"It's okay; there should be some wild ones on our way up."

"I hope so. I would hate not being able to give her something because of my foolish mistake."

Arthur and Antonio were making the yearly trip to the graveyard that was far up into the mountains to visit the latter's deceased mother, Catalina. The duo went regularly, on memorial days or special occasions, to pay a visit or their respects. Today was a specifically important day, for it was her day of birth. If not for the attack on the gatherers eight years before, she would have had forty years. Her gravesite was on Memorial Hill, where spiritual ceremonies for burials were located and where their final resting place would be. It was a fair distance from where the boys' village was located, and it was quite a walk up the mountains, but so far, they had made good progress. They had left during the midday meal, which would be finished at the same time they arrived in front of the grave sites.

"Ah, see?" Antonio strode over to a small collection of wild daisies, and used his knife to cut them gently. He searched in his pocket for a coil of yarn to tie them together, and then handed the petite, tied bouquet to his friend. "Daisies for you to give to _Madre_." He smiled, though it was more saddened than anything.

Arthur smiled as well, though it was mostly for reassurance. He knew better than anyone that this day was harsh on Antonio, who had only one parent and a mother who had not birthed him for half of his life. Even eight years later, it was difficult for him to handle life without a second blood-related parent. Elizabeth, Arthur's mother, had treated Antonio as if he were her own, but it still made little difference.

"It feels like we haven't been here in years," Arthur sighed quietly as they continued their walk to the grave.

Antonio hummed, nodding in agreement. His usually tan skin looked considerably paler, as if he was going to be sick at any moment. " _Sì_...every time we come here, I feel something similar to that..."

The blond frowned and blew out a small breath of air. Usually, the brunet would be excited and never silent while they went on their walks, but today- as it had always been for special occasions- was different. "Perhaps we can return to the café after we pay our respects."

"Mhm...that sounds nice."

"...I can make something for you. Maybe some rice and chicken?"

Antonio shook his head solemnly. "No, but _gracias_ for offering. I don't want to get in trouble with _Padre_ for burning the kitchen again."

"I won't burn it this time."

"You said that last time. And the time before that."

"Well, I mean it this time. I've seen my mum make rice and chicken before, so it's not like it's pork or some sort of dessert.

Antonio only scoffed as they finally started walking in familiar territory, with stone statues of the gods and a large open gate to welcome the mourning. "Okay, Arthur.

The fair-haired male scowled and looked away with a huff. "I'm just trying to make conversation. You're not always in this sort of mood. It's uncommon."

Sighing, the taller glanced over at Arthur with a sad gleam in his eyes. "I know, Art. _Lo siento_.

Arthur frowned but shrugged; "There is nothing to apologize for. Despite my frustration, I understand where you are coming from."

Antonio looked up at his friend, at first in shock. It then with a faint yet relieved smile. " _Gracias_.

The two navigated their way throughout the graveyard with little complications. They were quiet, for the most part, as they avoided tripping over gravestones and large tree roots that hid from watchful eyes. It didn't take them long to find the specific burial grounds for Catalina, since all of those who had died in the attack eight years earlier had been laid to rest in a separate area of land on Memorial Hill. It was aligned with fresh flowers, several kinds and sizes but alternating between white and blue. Each of the graves had the imprint of a gladiolus, the flower of remembrance, beside their name.

" _Hola_ , _Mama_ ," Antonio placed the flowers he had brought in front of the tombstone, folding his hands as he peered down at her name. " _Feliz Cumpleaños._ " In carefully etched words, the epitaph read:

 

_Catalina Maria Carriedo_

_A mother, wife, and friend with a permanent smile on her face_

_Forever missed_

_Forever remembered_

Arthur mimicked his movements but remained silent. He never said a word when they reached her grave, for he didn't want to disturb the atmosphere that became filled with a dead silence. Plus, as much as he wanted to pay his respects, this was Antonio's parent. It was a custom and a tradition to remain silent when in the presence of a deceased soul with no relation.

The blond sent up a short prayer to the gods, wishing for Catalina's safety and eternal peace before he nudged his friend's shoulder. "I'm going to head back down the hill, alright?" He whispered quietly. His voice sounded far too loud to be speaking at such a location. "I'll wait for you by the barn."

Antonio gave an approving nod before he settled beside the grave. Arthur turned back around and made his way down the hill in the same direction they had arrived. A couple of meters away from the bottom of Memorial Hill, there was a thin body of water and a small field, lying adjacent to the border of Sapphires and Emeralds. An abandoned barn with piles of hay, cracked windows and peeling paint was the only standing building that hadn't been destroyed. It was spooky to examine with little light, but it seemed innocent enough midday.

Tall shards of grass rose from the ground, brushing against Arthur's knees as he walked through them. He had been here enough times to memorize where the luscious plants were located, or what area of the creek wasn't too slippery to past over. With the familiarity came a strong wave of serenity, and he let out a quiet sigh. A smile slipped upon his face, and he removed his shoes to dab his feet in the water. For some reason, he had always preferred bare over covered feet, and he was comfortable enough to know that very few souls passed by here unless they were going to Memorial Hill, so there was very little to be concerned over.

A flock of birds passed over his head, crying out as they did. Arthur, upon hearing and seeing them, tugged his bow and an arrow out from his quiver, both on his back. Placing the arrow against the string of his bow, he pulled back and aimed for one of the avians. His older siblings had always told him that birds were the best way to practice aiming on moving targets, as well as providing good food, feathers, and even weapons if their talons were long enough. He detected footsteps nearby, surprised that Antonio was done so soon. Maybe something happened by the grave?

"You're back earlier than I expected," he commented, still trained on the birds, who had changed their flight pattern and turned slightly in his field of view. "I was just hunting this flock of birds to bring something back with us--for dinner, perhaps."

At first, the blond didn't receive an answer from his friend. Was he perhaps too emotional to talk at the moment? Antonio did stay quiet for a long period of time after his visit to Catalina's final resting place, even with his naturally talkative behavior. Arthur was just about to shoot his arrow when a voice--presumably from the person behind him--that did not belong to his brother-like friend spoke up instead.

"Are you, uh... Are you talking to me?"

Arthur turned his head to look at the owner of the unfamiliar voice, but he soon whipped around his entire body with a gasp when he saw who was present with him. A caramel-blond male, with lightly tanned skin and clean beige and brown clothes, stared back at Arthur in confusion. A leather sheath hung from a rope that acted as a belt around his waist, and an opening at its end revealed that the sheath was in use for holding a bladed object. The mysterious individual couldn't have been older than him, maybe even his age, but his innocent façade didn't faze Arthur, especially when the stranger had eyes that were bluer than the sky itself.

The newcomer opened his mouth and took a small step forward, but Arthur already had an arrow trained on him before he could utter a word. "Don't come near me or else I'll shoot," he ordered in a sharp tone, his heart banging inside his chest from the Sapphire in front of him. He was not going to risk any chances, especially with the knife dangling against his side.

The blue-eyed stranger only moved his hands to raise them into the air. He still had a bewildered stare upon his face, but so far had made no motion to attack. If he wanted to kill the other, he could have done it already, but Arthur swept the thought away. This was a citizen of the Sapphires Tribe, the "Tribe of Warriors". They were skilled fighters and could kill another with a simple twist of the neck. Arthur refused to let himself be the victim, as Emerald citizens were always believed to be weak. He would not hesitate to let the arrow fly in between those pretty blue eyes.

The stranger started to speak; "I'm not going to hurt y--"

"Silence," Arthur tightened his grasp on the string of his bow. "I won't hesitate to shoot this through your mouth."

With a small spark of fear in his eyes, the Sapphire pressed his lips together to silence himself. It was obvious from the green-eyed male's stance and glower that his words and threats were to be taken seriously.

"Give me your name and your name only."

"Alfred."

Despite the fright that was contained within cerulean eyes, his voice was steady and firm, almost gentle and innocent. Arthur would have lowered his bow if "Alfred" hadn't been a Sapphire. "State your intent."

"My...what?"

"Your reason for stepping into Emerald territory."

"Alfred" blinked in what appeared to be shock, his eyes darting out to examine his surroundings. It looked as if he hadn't even been aware of where he was. "I didn't know that I had crossed the border..."

Arthur tightened his grasp on his bow and drawstring with narrowed eyes. "I beg to differ."

The two stared at one another, sapphire to emerald, from enemy tribes, with the tension built up in the taut string of the bow. It was quiet save for the small puffs of breath they took in and let out. Every now and then, a bunny would dash out of the bushes, or a flock of birds would fly over. Arthur realized how much of an opportunity he was losing as they passed, but he would rather miss out on what could have been a good meal instead of letting a Sapphire off the hook--and so easily as well.

"Arthur?"

Antonio's voice--and it definitely was Antonio this time--echoed from behind "Alfred", but before any sort of acknowledgement could be given, the arrow was released. The Sapphires member was sent backwards, rolling into the plants behind him that divided the open field and the forest. The two Emerald members followed after him to see where he had gone, but they found nothing upon reaching the shrubbery.

Confused and surprised at what had just happened, Antonio looked over at his brother-like friend. "Did you..."

Arthur glanced up at the brunet, his mind still trying to comprehend what he had done. There was no way that he had killed the body, and there was certainly no possibility of him escaping so easily. He had moved his aim to the left at the last possible moment as a warning; he had no intention of taking away his life, even with their tribal differences. Even though "Alfred" had been a citizen of the enemy tribe, that didn't mean he deserved death. He was innocent, had done nothing wrong except for the fact that he owned eyes of cerulean.

"I didn't mean to," the blond finally managed to say. Perhaps the body fell into the fast-running creek that was right in front of them. "I only meant to scare him..."

The two looked for a little while longer in the general area before they gave up. They were expected at home soon, and would be able to make it just at the end of the midday meal. Elizabeth would be worried, as usual, but everything would be back to normal: the same daily routine, the same regular faces, the same time and food and shelter and family and friends. Everything was going to be okay.

And yet there was a small voice in the back of Arthur's head that promised to return tomorrow, to break out of normalcy, and to investigate the area one last time.


	5. Inner Thoughts and Contemplations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathias--Denmark
> 
> Don't be an ass to your children.
> 
> That's about it.

Chapter 4:

Inner Thoughts and Contemplation

"Arthur..."

The name was free to roll off of Alfred's lips with caution and precision. He didn't want to be heard, even with the duo from Emeralds already drifting off into the distance. He shouldn't be taking any risks, especially when he had almost been killed, yet he couldn't resist. The name was gentle against his tongue, a sound that was as rich and smooth as silk. Arthur, the person himself, seemed just as mysterious and elegant as his name, possessing such dignity and bravery to point an arrow so steadily at another human, and Alfred found himself admiring the feat.

Getting up from the bushes, the Sapphires citizen dusted off any grime on him before he started to walk back towards his home. There was something in him that pushed him away from the Tribe of Warriors, and he wasn't sure what it was, but he preferred it over returning to his home. He wanted to look for Arthur and learn more about him. He could have shot him upon first seeing him, but he didn't. He showed him mercy, sparing his life for whatever reason. He didn't have to, however; they were supposed to be enemies, as much as Alfred disliked it.

_Why did he spare me if we're from different tribes...and enemy ones, no less!_

It was a big puzzle for him to try and decipher. He hadn't ever met someone--even from Sapphires--who could point a bow at him with precise accuracy. And Arthur's aim would have most likely been spot-on if it weren't for Alfred's somehow fast reflexes. He hadn't even known that he could move so quickly, let alone from a flying arrow. Perhaps those lessons from Owain were finally paying off.

As he continued on back the way he had originally came from, the young male found that there was a slight ruffle from behind him whenever he walked. For every step he took, the rustles followed in threes, stopping only when Alfred did. It was starting to spook him, and he did try to block it out, but to no avail. He finally turned around, eyeing the surrounding areas for something that would give away whatever was making the noises behind him. _I know you're out there..._

"Oi!"

The Sapphire chief's son jumped back a bit in shock from the exuberant face that was now in front of him, but relaxed when he recognized who it--or, rather, he--was. "Very funny, Mathias."

Laughing loudly at his joke, the older jumped out of the tree he was in, landing on two feet flawlessly. "You knew it was funny, too; don't lie to me!" He jabbed your side in a joking manner with a wide grin. A good friend of Alfred's, and the son of one of the best warriors Sapphires had ever had, Mathias always had a knack for pulling pranks or scaring others for fun. It was no surprise that he was causing trouble, but why now and here?

Alfred scoffed, a small smile on his face as he shook his head. "Sure; whatever you say."

From the same tree Mathias had been in, another figure dropped down beside them. Unlike the other amiable companion, Ludwig was more serious and quiet, but just as loyal. "Oh yeah--I got this puss out of the village! He saw sun that wasn't training with Owain, hah!"

"If I remember correctly, you dragged me out of my own home," Ludwig corrected, crossing his arms defiantly. "You barely gave me a choice."

"I gave you two choices, thank you!"

"Telling someone they can either walk with you or have you carry them are not choices as to me going with you or not."

"Uhh, just because our families are killer warriors doesn't mean we're the same. We come from different families so we learned different things."

"That doesn't--"

"Bottom line is," Mathias proclaimed, jabbing Alfred's chest, "you are being searched for."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm being searched for...?"

"Last that we heard, yes."

"Your father wants to talk to you," Ludwig added. "He was able to escape from his work, apparently, and asks that you see him as soon as possible."

Alfred's face turned pale at that, letting out an audible gulp and curling his fist at his side. It was rare that he ever got to talk to his father, due to his schedule pushing him away from home and from spending time with his family. When Aldrich was home, however, it was just as scary as him during war or on practice battlefields. That and the fact that Alfred wasn't sure what his father wanted to say to him rose a familiar yet vague feeling of fear and anxiety.

The trio hurried back to their home village of Selenica as fast as they were able to make it. It was clear to anyone who knew him that Alfred was afraid to even speak to his mother about Aldrich. The chief of Sapphires was not a social person, and even had difficulty communicating with those who worked with him. And if he was requested by the chief himself, it was beyond complicated. It was urgent.

When the boys finally arrived at the luxurious home Alfred and his parents resided in, departing from each other to do as required for them, Emilia was already waiting for her son outside of the entrance. When Alfred was close enough, she grasped his arm and pulled him in, her eyes filled with alarm.

"You're late," she scolded as she ushered him into their large home. "The servants have been entertaining your father since tea!"

"I didn't say when I would be back," Alfred protested, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "I only said--"

"It doesn't matter! You knew he would be here to talk to you!"

"Mother, you told me after su--"

"There's the boy."

Upon hearing the light voice, the duo halted in both place and speech. His voice was deeper than Alfred's, yet the two looked exactly alike in eye and hair color, and--by the looks of it--the chief's son would grow to the same height as his father. Alfred was less than glad that it had turned out that way; at least he had the same nose and soft eye shape that his mother possessed, as well as her behavior and mannerisms. Aldrich was wearing some armor, but for the most part, he was wearing a tunic and the burgundy cape he was noticed to always have over his shoulders. The room was simple yet large, made of marble stone and ornate with curtains to separate the rooms. The furniture consisted of cushions and sheets, some on the marble floor, but were held up by contraptions that shaped whatever the frame was shaped into. It was simple yet regal; the chief's family was certainly living in luxury.

A nudge against his back sent Alfred forward a few steps, but was enough to encourage him to sit beside his father cautiously, as if the furniture was fire. "Hello, Father."

Aldrich nodded curtly. "Alfred." He barely spared a glance at the bystanders in front of him. "You may leave. I do not require your purpose right now."

If anything, the servants filing out of the room only increased his anxiety. He was alone with his father, face-to-face, with no distractions. Alfred wasn't even sure what had prompted this, or when they had last sat down and talked. He couldn't remember, and he was sure he didn't want to know. Aldrich may have been his father, but their relationship was poor, consisting of brief glances and pats to the head.

"Now then, boy," the older started. "I understand you have been training under Owain, but I have conversed with him today concerning your progress. Emilia, you may either sit down and listen, or halt your eavesdropping."

The mother and wife, still standing in the doorway, took a step forward, sitting across from the two males. "Aldrich, I don't think it wise that you scold him for such a thing. You won't be able to cha--"

"I will discuss this with you later in private. For now, I want to hear what the boy has to say."

"You're never in his life, and now you intend to--"

"Later, woman." Aldrich shot her an icy glare in warning, that if she didn't obey, she would regret it. That was one of the many reasons why Alfred hoped he never turned into his father--because he had no respect for anyone that wasn't himself. "Now, Alfred. Explain to me why you have failed to pass Owain's tests, or why you refuse to participate. Everyone is doing this, but you have failed to follow suit. In fact, if I recall correctly, you refuse."

As the chief spoke, the younger sighed and leaned against the seat, shutting his eyes. He didn't want to answer this question, and he had no intention to do so in the future. Alfred was already aware of what his father was going to say if he revealed his secret. "Father, I don't want to fight."

"It does no matter if you want it or not; you must fight--"

"I don't have to do anything--"

"When I am talking, you remain silent!" Aldrich snapped loudly, his face growing scarlet from the yell. Alfred stayed as stoic as he could, but he was breaking internally. The Sapphires chief was in charge for a reason, and had used a brutal strategy for him to get his way and only his way throughout his rule. It was obvious that that method was being used against him at that moment. "You are the son of the chief of Sapphires. You do not have a say in our society until you make your first kill. Even with those circumstances, if you do not support us and our culture, we will ostracize you permanently. Am I understood?"

Alfred was quiet when the question was first presented to him. He didn't have much of an opinion that would be approved by his father. There was no victory for him here; he had to say something but it had to be in favor of Aldrich, this creating a lie--the same thing h had been doing for years. How his father had never figured this out yet was beyond him. "Yes, Father...I understand."

"Fantastic." The chief nodded before he stood up. He gazed down at his sob, and Alfred could tell by one look at his face that he was trying to think of something encouraging or fatherly to say, but didn't have the ability to do so. Instead, he held out his hand, which the younger male shook firmly. Why did it have to turn out that way, with silent handshakes and the urge to comfort but never the performance? "I will see you on the morrow." You always say that but you never return. "I expect a satisfactory performance from your training. I also expect Ludwig and Mathias to help you with your...state of mind."

"Yes, Father." He nodded, but kept his head bowed. Alfred already knew that there was no way he would be following through with what he was told. To look at his father with that knowledge would be too much for him.

Aldrich left without another word, giving a curt nod to his son and nothing but footsteps as a memory of his presence. The younger curled in on himself, trying to regulate his suddenly face-paced breathing. As soon as he did, however, the same emerald eyes that had been filled with defensives appeared in his mind, and the crisp accent filled his ears, and his mother wrapped her arms around him, but he barely noticed all he could focus on was the Emerald and the arrow and the question. 

_"Who are you?"_

 


End file.
